


Presumption of Innocence

by actualkoschei



Series: Fanfic Inktober 2019 [5]
Category: BioShock 1 & 2 (Video Games)
Genre: Fort Frolic is the Bone Zone, M/M, Older Man/Younger Man, Oral Sex, PWP, Tags to be updated for chapter 2, Technically Consensual but still creepy, What The Hell Have I Done
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-11
Updated: 2019-10-10
Packaged: 2020-12-07 22:22:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20983337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/actualkoschei/pseuds/actualkoschei
Summary: Sander Cohen deflowers Jack in a bid to one-up Atlas.For Inktober days 7, 9, and 10: "enchanted", "swing", and "pattern"





	Presumption of Innocence

**Author's Note:**

> I'm still not so great at writing smut, be patient.

The boy was beautiful. Sander Cohen couldn’t help but notice it. The mournful curve of his lip, the doe-softness of his eyes. And something familiar.  _ Enchantingly  _ familiar, but he could not quite put his finger on just  _ what _ . It would take more looking, he concluded. Maybe he could talk the boy into sitting for a portrait. Yes, that face could make a  _ masterpiece _ . 

The boy – Jack, that was his name, yes – was watching him . Waiting for something, a quizzical look in those big eyes. Sander stared back at him. The resemblance was nagging at him, desperately waiting for him to  realise something. 

What he  realised , not perhaps what he was supposed to, was that he  _ hungered _ .  It had been a long time, despite everything. The waters, once such a fertile hunting ground, filled with young, desperate fish, had been soured by betrayal. But Jack had not long swum in those waters. 

And what little time he had spent in them had been under the watchful eyes of Atlas.  _ How closely _ , Cohen wondered,  _ has Atlas been watching him _ ? Surely, he was not immune to Jack’s charms. He couldn’t be, why else would he care? And wouldn’t  _ that _ be a precious revenge, a lovely hand up in their drawn-out dominance game.  Plucking his beautiful forbidden fruit before that Irish bastard had the chance. 

“Come here.”  Cohen extended a hand to Jack, in a carefully graceful maneuver.  Jack followed. So obedient. “Have you ever danced?” Cohen asked him.

Jack shook his head, wordless. 

“Then I’ll teach you! We should have music!” He dropped Jack’s hand to run and toy with a phonograph , until swing music, distorted by too long trapped in a wax cylinder, crackled out across the stage. “Now dance with me, won’t you, my little moth?  And  _ one- _ two- _ three- _ four...” He grabbed Jack’s hand and swung him around in an almost-swing dance step. 

Jack stumbled after him. The stage felt slick under their shoes, and Sander thought of having it  re - waxed , and then  realised he had nobody to do that for him anymore. He would have sworn about it, but the fun of dancing with a pretty boy was a  balm on his wounded soul. 

He didn’t try very hard, or for very long, to keep his hands from wandering.  Jack, he found, had a nice, firm ass, and made a pleasing muffled squealing sound when it was squeezed. 

A sound Sander just had to kiss off his lips. Jack whimpered, but Sander pulled him in tighter. “Shh, it’s alright, don’t fret. I’ll teach you. I’ll make you feel good.” He murmured, his hands wandering all over the boy’s ass, his thighs, as he dragged him back over to the couch and pushed him down. 

Jack lay spread out beneath him, looking up, and he looked even more tempting like this. And even more  _ familiar _ . And then it struck Sander.  _ Ryan.  _ The  boy  looked like  _ Ryan.  _ Oh, wasn’t that precious.  The face of his love, come wandering right into his hands. 

“Shh.” He murmured again, climbing onto the couch to straddle Jack. “You just lie still, my lovely.” He ran his hands up over Jack’s abdomen, pulling his shirt out of its messy half-tuck, pushing his cream- coloured sweater up and stroking the exposed pale skin. “That’s it, yes, that’s the stuff.” He slid down with the grace of a much younger man, and kissed the same strip of exposed flesh.

Jack yelped, suppressed the sound by shoving his hand into his mouth. 

Sander’s hand wandered up to rub at Jack’s crotch, and he was pleased to find the boy not entirely soft. His touch still had an effect, he was glad to note. 

The action drew a soft groan from Jack, and  a twitch from his contained cock.

Sander unbuttoned Jack’s trousers, and slid them down along with his underwear, freeing his rapidly swelling cock.  He then licked a broad stripe up his length.

Jack yelped and squirmed under Sander’s hands, as the older man took his cock deeper into his throat.

Sander smiled around him. “Good boy, aren’t you? You’ll return the  favour when I’m done, yes?”

Jack couldn’t say no. He was gasping under the touches, arching his back into the delicious warm suction around his cock. “Yes!”

He was lost to it, lost to the warmth and pleasure, and when he came, Sander swallowed it all. He had made it quick, as quick as he could, waiting for a chance to get his in return. 

And now he would. He pulled his own cock out, and guided Jack’s head into his lap. The boy was inexperienced, he knew, and it made Sander even more achingly hard to fuck his throat and watch him sputter and choke. He stroked his hair, though, to sweeten the blow. It didn’t take long for him either, until he felt that tightening, tingling sensation in his balls. 

Ready to come, he grabbed Jack’s hair, pulling the boy’s head back, and let his come fall across that pretty, wide-eyed face. 

Some fell on the corner of Jack’s mouth, and he darted out his tongue to taste it, then pulled a face. 

“Not so pleasant, is it?” Sander chuckled, pulling out a handkerchief and wiping  Jack’s face clean.

Jack shook his head, the disgust on his face undisguised. 

“It really  _ was _ your first time, wasn’t it?  I wouldn’t have picked Atlas for having the self-control to avoid defiling you for this long. But I suppose he  _ is  _ just that much of a coward.”

The look on Jack’s face turned indignant. “He’s not...”

“Not a coward? Well then, why don’t you run along to him, seeing as you so  _ clearly _ would rather be there than here?” But when Jack made a move to get up, he grabbed his wrist. “Uh-uh. Not yet. I  haven't ’ finished with you yet.”


End file.
